Convenient Arrangements
by youfindyourselfinsomeoneelse
Summary: Snape was capable of love? Love so deep and penetrating that it hurt your very soul?" Its amazing how a single kiss can change everything, now Harry and Severus have to get married, will they survive? SS/HP Slash. Language. Violence. LOVE.
1. Prologue

To all of my ever faithful readers,

I know you are all going to hate me for this, but I have been thinking for a while that I don't really know where this story is going, and that I ought to go back and reread through it, correcting things, and adding things, and generally making it better. I hope that you all will choose to stick with me through this.

This idea has been a long time in the running, for the fact that when I first started writing this, it was something of a drabble, inspired by something I read, and wanted to imitate, whilst I know that this is not a good starting point for a story, I believe that along the way I have made it somewhat my own.

Despite this fact, I yearn to make this story completely original, and one that may be eligible to be more than just the average Harry Potter fan fiction. I gather so much of my inspiration from other writers that are amazing, that have won awards, and that show their work on more than one website. This is the kind of HPFF writer I want to be, someone to inspire others.

The other reason for this change in circumstances is that I have been finding it hard to write the rest of this fic lately, not only because of the lack of time I have had, but because of something I think of as writing block, but that is really more lack of imagination and care for it. I am currently in the middle of constructing a plan that this story will follow, and that should ensure that chapters are written and up quickly.

I hope that you have all taken the time to read this, because it is a personal note to all of you that have waited so patiently for me to get my backside into gear and give you all what you want. I hope you continue to do so, and if any of you have any further questions, then I urge to send me a message, I will not hesitate in my reply.

Yours,

Lucy

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J., Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros. I'm playing in their playground.

**Warnings: **Rated T for strong language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature, although I don't mind reading explicit slash scenes, I don't covet writing them.

**Convenient Arrangements**

**Prologue**

I stepped through the tall grass, avoiding the brush of nettles by my feet. These meetings that were occurring more and more often were growing tedious. The Dark Lord had left plans to be put into action, and despite the fact that I had no wish to be a part of them; I had no choice in the matter.

Malfoy Manor loomed before me, eerily foreboding in the darkness. I hadn't been here in a long time, and not just out of personal choice. The Dark Lord chose many different places for his meetings, when he had lived, and although we had attempted to find them, we had failed in our task. So it was here that our gatherings occurred.

Lucius Malfoy had perhaps taken the loss of his master the worst. He no longer had anyone to tell him what to do, and was at a loss. He had taken it upon himself to organise these meetings, where he would impart to us the knowledge and plans of our late master, and expect us to fulfil them.

It wasn't as difficult as one would have thought, although lying low was on the cards. The ministry had enhanced their methods of finding those of us who had followed the Dark Lord, and were increasing the force behind their raids and searches. We could not be caught.

I tried not to snort as I saw a majestic white peacock strutting across the sweeping lawns, it was so ostentatious, and so like Lucius Malfoy, to have creatures as pretentious as those. I barely noticed the thunder crackling overhead as I followed the path to the old oak of the front door.

When I reached it, I knocked lightly, having to wait mere moments until the door swung inwards to admit me. Narcissa was at the door, her skin as white as a swan's feathers, owning the aristocracy of old blood. Her hair was the typical Malfoy blonde, platinum as that of her husband's.

She looked tired, with faint purple circles beneath her eyes, and the appearance of one that had not eaten in a while. "Severus," she greeted me, her voice raspy and nervous. I nodded in response and stepped across the threshold, strolling to the dining hall where I knew the meeting would take place.

I had known Lucius and Narcissa almost my whole lifetime; I had attended Hogwarts with both of them, and had once considered Lucius a brother. This was a fact he liked to remind me of, often.

I let myself into the dining room, taking my customary seat beside the head of the table. The meeting was full, there were followers there that I would never have expected to return, and yet, here they sat, cradling tumblers containing a generous amount of amber liquid.

Lucius sat beside me, at the head of the table, one hand wrapped firmly around his the silver serpent head of his wand. It wasn't unusual that he would punish us, although sometimes I wonder if perhaps he has not been driven a little mad by the loss of his master, and if he was trying to take his place.

I didn't bear it much thought as I took my drink from Narcissa, the woman who had once been loved and prized above anything else had fallen to the level of a servant, bringing drinks to her husband's acquaintances, and saying nothing.

I took a sip, letting the substance warm my stomach and giving an inconspicuous nod to Lucius, signalling him that it was time to start the meeting, despite our differences, we still had trust, and we were brothers as we always had been.

"Good evening, gentlemen, ladies," started Lucius, nodding to the respective groups, "Tonight we have much to discuss. Firstly, I would like to alert you to our lack of publicity. In the days of our Lord, we were in the Prophet daily, with the momentous news of our attacks, wreaking havoc on the wizarding world. Whatever happened?" he asked, and it was clear from his tone that it was a rhetorical question.

No one said a word, and this was what I had feared, if the attacks started again, then we would be discovered, and shipped to Azkaban.

"No answers?" he asked, again, rhetorically, "Then we shall start again, Saturday night, I am stationing Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Dolohov and Greyback on the east side of Wilmslow, and the Lestranges, Nott and Rookwood to the west side, you are to attack from either end, I want muggle children captured and brought to me, their parents killed, and any witches or wizards tortured and captured. Destroy buildings, kill creatures, and have fun doing so," he instructed.

I didn't frown, although I should have, it was clear from his instructions that he wanted to go back to the old ways, even if it was without Lord Voldemort as his master. I looked upon the faces of those mentioned, and they were proud, with savage hints of excitement in their eyes. They certainly would have fun with their duties.

"Secondly, Yaxley, Rosier, I want the new candidates for minister placed under the imperious curse, it is about time we have some control over what goes on in our shambles of a ministry," he stated, to the delight of the aforementioned. I resisted rolling my eyes.

"Thirdly, I have a plan to kill Harry Potter once and for all, he brought about the downfall of our master, it is about time we bring his," he said, and immediately, muttering started around the room. Harry Potter, something I attempted to keep as far from my thoughts as possible, and I remembered the reason why when people started darting glances at me.

I finished the rest of my drink, and took to staring resolutely at the wall, at least until Lucius spoke again, "I shall adopt him," he said, and it took a moment to hide my shock, others weren't so well adapted, and let their mouths hang open.

"Yes, it is with what good intentions I shall project, and with the prospective ministers under the imperious curse, it will be no issue in being allowed. Harry Potter will be my son, and then I shall kill him."

I didn't say anything.

"That is all for this evening, I expect my instructions to be put into immediate action, and, until the next time I call, cause mess for the muggles," he said, and with that, he stood and left the room, followed by Narcissa, and then myself.

"Dumbledore will never stand for it," I said, as soon as we were out of earshot.

"He will have to, with the ministry on side, he'll have no choice," stated Lucius, turning angrily on his heel to face me. "He will have no time to make other arrangements, Severus, unless someone within our congregation feels the need to inform him of our plans," his eyes burned with unabashed fury, aimed directly at me, and I doubted for just a moment, whether it was true that he trusted me.

It certainly seemed that if anyone would admit their plans to Albus, then in Lucius' opinion, it would be me. I glared at him, "You know perfectly well of my alliance, Lucius, if he should find out, then let it be known that I would not be the one to inform him," I growled, the anger clear in my voice.

It was then that Narcissa stepped between us, a hand reached out to each of our chests. Lucius roughly pushed her hand away before turning and walked as quickly down the hallway as he was permitted to with his injuries.

I scowled after him, before looking to Narcissa; she cradled her hand in her other, tears clouding her eyes. "Is this what he is resorting to now?" I asked, my tone carefully distasteful. "Does he hurt you?"

"He doesn't mean to," she whimpered, her voice fragile. She patted me on the arm, "You are a good man Severus, I envy the woman to gain you as a husband," she said, avoiding my eyes. I nodded once, unable to tell her that my affections did not lie with a woman.

I bent my head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, you know where I am," I said, hating that I had no desire to do more. How I would love to avenge everything Lucius had caused by taking his wife, and yet, I could not bring myself to want her, in any way. She was more of a sister.

She nodded; gracing me with what I was sure was a rare smile these days. I looked at her for a few seconds before turning and walking out of the mansion. I didn't dwell on the fact that I hadn't seen Draco, nor did I dwell on the fact that a village was to be destroyed on Saturday eve. The thing I was worried about was the potential adoption of Harry Potter.

**I figured that since the last time you all read this, before it was rewritten; most people were asking me for reasoning as to why Severus and Harry had to marry. So, this is part of the reasoning, and the rest has been included. Sorry this has been added after the event, but I just found it on my computer and figured that I should put it up. It works with the story. The next chapter is half written and will be up soon.**

**Until next time, **

**Lucy**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J., Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros. I'm playing in their playground.

**Warnings: **Rated T for strong language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature, although I don't mind reading explicit slash scenes, I don't covet writing them.

**Convenient Arrangements**

**Thoughts Speak Louder Than Actions, Words or Emotions**

**Chapter One**

The voices in the room were low and distant; I could barely hear them as I stared at the stone wall, listening to the small voice of reason in my own head. It whispered to me, though I could hear it above everything else in the room.

I guessed this had something to do with the fact that it was so close, yet it seemed so far, so unreal. Everything was unreal, nothing could possibly be true. It had to be a dream, although I wasn't sure even my imagination was wild enough for this. I had to marry Snape. Snape. Of all the people Dumbledore could have chosen.

Why him? Why not some random person I didn't know, at least someone I didn't hate. I kept on telling myself no, I would put up with this, I would tolerate his strained politeness, however much it cost me to stay indifferent, and I would not be the one to break first.

I knew that with the mental capacity I have, both in occlumency, legilimency and my own personal skills, I would have no trouble in hiding the emotions that I never admit to. The way the sorting hat had told me that I should have belonged in Slytherin still played on my mind, the more I thought about how I had almost become the epitome of what was expected to become one of the members of the Snake pit.

Decorum, the ability to hide what one truly felt, those were the qualities that defined me as a Slytherin, although I remained the ever chivalrous Gryffindor out of choice. I had no desire to turn to the side I fought so fiercely against, and I had plenty of reason to believe that I never would.

I was sure of that; I knew I was mentally stronger than him and magically stronger than him, but the physical nature of strength was not my forte. It was Severus who won this battle, and who always would. Not only because I wasn't built in that way, but because of a more serious event that had been my fault.

Snape had been poisoned with the venom of Voldemorts' pet, Nagini.

It wasn't that I hadn't believed it could happen; I just never imagined the possibility that it would. Nagini had always seemed somewhat serene, although it was deemed impossible by everyone I shared this thought with. In my eyes, she was merely the host body used by Lord Voldemort when he shed his own snakelike skin.

I had discovered the effects of the curse when the symptoms started to protrude, the reason for the flashes of colour in his eyes, the even paler colour of his skin, the reason the same steaming goblet stood beside his meal every evening, waiting to be drunk.

I grimaced when I thought of that, the potion had the faintest scent of blood, the rusty, salty smell that I had grown so accustomed to. There wasn't a strong presence in the mixture, but what was there was pure. This almost made me scowl, but these newly acquired skills of decorum had me holding back the disgust I felt. Pure blood was coveted amongst the wizarding world, but in my opinion it was the muddiest blood status of all.

I didn't like the way that Snape had to drink the potion every night. I saw him flinch every time it passed his throat, watched him close his eyes as he tried to hide his revulsion. Although I didn't particularly like him, it was painful to know that I had caused his discomfort.

I couldn't think clearly, my heart rate had quickened considerably and I shivered whenever I could feel someone's eyes upon me. I suddenly remembered why I was here, having forgotten due to the over activity of my mind.

My eyes darted involuntarily to meet Snape's dark obsidian orbs. Yet they weren't black as I had expected. It was one of those occurrences that I hated; they had switched to a murky brown colour, tinged with a shade of red. I couldn't bring myself to continue looking into the eyes that plied me with excess amounts of guilt, and so I looked away from the brown, letting my eyes wander to his lips.

I thought about it, about what was to come, the impending kiss. I studied his lips with candid curiosity, what would it be like to kiss him? Properly, whilst I was aware of whom it was. Would he be gentle, or would he claim my lips harshly, stating that I was his.

I didn't want to think of either; they both seemed so far from my idea of him as a person that they were hardly worth any thought at all. A gentleness that didn't exist in Snape would shock me out of any feeling at all. The one time he had kissed me before, when I had been blissfully unaware of who it was, it had been rough, and invasive, and all too much like my idea of the perfect kiss.

I shook my head at the memory, the memory that I seemed to be replaying too much in my own head. A repeat of that memory seemed so very appealing. I looked away, glaring at the wall, blaming my own hormone wrecked mind for the sudden appearance of my ever hidden blush.

I could feel Snape's amusement rolling off of him in waves. That was another new talent; my ability to read people and influence them. I could sense the emotions of every person that inhabited the room beneath the Great Hall, all with perfect clarity, as long as I concentrated on one specific person at any given time.

Hermione was feeling quietly bewildered, I could tell that she didn't really know what was going on. She understood it fully, more capably than anyone in the room, having researched it completely, by the time she was only partly through accepting that there was no other decision, she had run out of books.

No more information she hadn't already known occupied the pages she reread, hoping to decipher something that she had missed before. Hermione, however, was entirely resourceful, and I knew from studying with her that she never missed anything. She understood so clearly, there were no flaws; the plan was perfection in every way.

I hadn't liked the news that the only way out of my predicament had been to get married, let alone to Snape, of all people. It had started back when I was the recipient of a shortly awaited letter from the ministry, detailing my appointment with a psychologist concerning my lack of a family.

I hadn't wanted to attend, but I was assured it was entirely preliminary, and nothing would be done. This happened to be one of the rare times that Dumbledore got it wrong. I was offered adoption from two different sets of parents, which would 'improve my mindset and outlook on life'.

I remember snorting, thinking that it was something of a bad joke, but of course, I couldn't be that lucky. Unluckiness descended into downright torture when I discovered who they were. The first was Cornelius Fudge himself, offering to 'allow his connections and influence within the ministry to allow protection and his own familial upbringing to improve my sensitivity.' Not only was this bad enough, but the second offer would have had me laughing hysterically if it hadn't been for the want of some professionalism.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were the names on the other sheet of papers, and seeing the text just made me think that all they would have wanted me for was torture and to finish the job that had been ended by Snape. I didn't want to be adopted by either of them, and for the fact that I was to be of age in a few short months meant that it was almost pointless. I tried to explain this, but the minister was not cooperative. At all.

Hence the reason why our plan was born to marry me off to some wealthy person with a strong personality and good connections, but who knew me, and who was in the order. This immediately meant that women were out, for the fact that they could be easily pushed aside in the ministry, and so it was narrowed down to a list of about three people, of which Snape was deemed the most appropriate. Oh joy of joys. I could hardly argue, it was this or hours of torture, whether mental or physical at the hands of Fudge or Malfoy, although I suspected that mental torture was probably to be expected from Snape.

Hermione clung to Ron, chewing nervously on her lower lip, a worried look in her chocolate brown eyes. I sent out soothing waves of comfort in her general direction and shrugged half-heartedly when she turned her eyes upon me, they were unfocused, like she was deep in thought, which, I reminded myself, she probably was.

She scowled at me; something that remotely resembled the look Crookshanks gave whenever he charged headfirst into a wall, giving no inclination that he knew it was present. This thought made Harry smile, and Hermione must have thought that he was smiling at her because she gave a small smile in return, her visage loosening, and her posture relaxing as she loosened her grip on Ron's arm. He looked at her in surprise and I took the moment to monitor him carefully.

A storm was raging behind his eyes. Stick with Harry - Side against Snape. The argument really was pointless, I knew he wouldn't leave me, he'd already admitted it to me, without meaning to, of course, and it had to be just my luck for me to have another advantage against the rest of the world.

I could read minds, and no one could shield theirs from me, not Dumbledore, or Snape. I tried to block out the low humming as much as possible, but sometimes words slipped through, shattering the silence within my own mind.

Peoples thoughts were more revealing that their words, actions or emotions, because they didn't know they were thinking them. It was all subconscious, all unknown to them, unknown, the reason they apologized when shock or hurt crossed my face after something had slipped through my invisible barrier.

They knew of course, but they didn't know what I'd heard, what I'd taken offense at. I tried so hard to forget these moments, when suspicion and anger flickered across the faces of those I'd overheard. There was never a moment when I didn't feel guilty for these involuntary trespasses into their minds, never a moment when I didn't wish I could give my 'gift' back.

There was too much I'd done to ruin others' lives that I couldn't not feel guilty. I stared at Ron for a moment, listening in on the battle that had already been won. I tired after a while, and began looking around the room, listening to people's minds and sensing their emotions.

I knew it was wrong of me to invade the minds of others, but I was more content in other people's minds than I was in my own. No matter how much was going on behind their eyes, it was never half as much as was going on behind my own. It was a welcome break from the chaos in my head.

I finally turned my gaze to Snape, who was still watching me, his eyes having lost their green tint whilst I had been surveying the rest of our congregation. Amusement played across his features, lighting his eyes up softly, the corners of his mouth were upturned in the slightest of ways, meant for no one but me to see.

I sighed resignedly, picturing my future ahead with him. Maybe he would make an effort, he certainly seemed to be now, or was this just for show? Did he mean it? I singled his thoughts out carefully from the throng in the room.

It was easy to pinpoint, I had been tracking it for days now, hoping for some sign of life behind the steely glare he gave me. He seemed to have opened up more now, now I wasn't probing his mind every hour of the day.

I knew I should stop myself, I knew it, yet I didn't. Why? Because I so desperately needed to know what he was thinking. I relied on my new senses as if I had never lived without them.

I knew I shouldn't put so much faith into them, but I had discovered so much about those I loved, that I never would have otherwise. I knew how everyone felt about me, why they acted the way they did, how fragile they thought me.

That was part of the reason for this somewhat rushed marriage. I needed to be protected, loved. And that was where I had scoffed in disbelief. Snape was capable of love? Love so deep and penetrating that it hurt your very soul?

Dumbledore thought he could do it; I just shrugged because I didn't want to look impolite. Snape was so much weaker than me. He was alone. I had all of my friends and adopted family that loved me completely unconditionally.

I had realised that a long time ago, when the mind and emotion reading first came into play, and I accepted it. I reveled in it, it was the closest thing to a pure family I had ever known and I loved it, absorbed every speck of love they sent my way, returning it in full force.

I had always been grateful for their attention, their continued support through all of the trials and tribulations of my life, but although I had thought of them as family, I was sure that they had just considered me a friend of their youngest son, not another child to add to the eight they already had.

But Snape had no one, except Dumbledore, who treated him like a son, and me, soon to be his husband. The word sounded strange even in my thoughts, I struggled with the concept of actually speaking it. Eventually my mind relaxed, and I decided; I would wait for the word to fall from his lips before I even considered saying it.

At that moment, I felt a slight pressure on my mind, recognizing the feeling was easy. Legilimency was not the most subtle way of thought invasion. I could tell from the somewhat careless way he threw away my thoughts that it was Snape, prodding around, looking for something he couldn't seem to read on my face.

I looked straight into his eyes, watching as they faded softly between black and acid green in his concentration. He looked oddly puzzled, a small pucker between his eyebrows was the only indication, but if I was correct, he was failing to pinpoint the direction my thoughts had followed.

With a smirk on my face, I wiped my mind clean and blank and waited for him to react. I didn't have to wait long. He glared at me, the same anger behind his eyes that I had been used to for so many years. Despite my recognition of this anger, the reason for it had changed. Used for such frivolities in days that were long gone, and now used for the reason that I was merely infuriating.

I almost chuckled at how his opinion of me had changed; of course, in his eyes I was every part the arrogant carbon copy of my father, with what he thought to be false heroism and more annoying traits. I was somewhat pleased at this prospect. If his opinion could change, then surely it could be for the better as opposed to the worse?

I could feel my face growing hot again and I turned to stare resolutely at the wall. And that was when I realized I hadn't read his thoughts, _or_ his emotions. I scowled, turning my face to him.

He looked at me questioningly, enough of a superior sneer on his lips that I knew he was proud he had fooled me. I watched as he folded his hands carefully in his lap. I shook my head, laughter threatening to overrule my smoothly executed control. I smiled balefully at the same wall I had been staring at previously, wishing that it might create some illusion I could pretend to be interested in.

I reminded myself of the words Dumbledore had spoken to me soon after I had discovered the blood in Snape's veins was not truly human.

He had said his moods would vary, greatly depending on the situation at hand, but that normality was something Snape craved and would attain, even with the foreign quality to his blood. It almost made me laugh. Normal Snape was cutting and dryly sarcastic, this Snape was a shadow of his former self, being calm and polite.

Okay. I knew that part of it was a show; we had to act as if we didn't clash over the smallest thing. Generally, Evil was something that showed in more abundance that his kindness, this was not just because he was regularly sadistic, but because of the serpents anger that hissed through his veins. Kindness was something that had been appearing more often, and I convinced myself that it was a result of the reversal process and that normality would return once he was fully human.

Dumbledore had also mentioned that Snape loved me. I think I snorted, but I couldn't be sure, I may have just sat in silence for several minutes, trying not to believe that it was true.

But I couldn't really deny it, all the signs pointed that way. The way he now cared for me. The way he had taken me in, willingly, after the Dursley's had perished under the hand of Voldemort.

There was the way he looked at me, watching me, protectively yet he had a kind of hunger about him. I figured this was lust. Many people's thoughts I had heard, accidentally of course, seemed to centre on the idea of sexual exploration.

Even as I listed the points in my own head, I couldn't quite add it up the way Dumbledore had. I couldn't believe how he could possibly love me. I thought back to during the summer when I moved into his quarters.

We had spent the first week conversing in nothing but arguments, and eventually we withdrew into silence, uncomfortable silence that never broke. That was when the war came.

We fought on the same side, but never together, we only ever spoke of strategy and even then we argued. It wasn't until the final battle was upon us that anything changed.

He saved my life.

Voldemort and I stood facing each other in the centre of the clearing, circling each other somewhat hesitantly. I was invading his mind carefully, using legilimency, only legilimency, I didn't have my other abilities then, and I was so sure, so sure that he could feel me poking around his mind.

No matter how advanced I was, how much Dumbledore told me with pride that I was brilliant, how much Snape grudgingly and reluctantly admitted that I was better than him, better even than Dumbledore.

Nevertheless I held on to the scraps of his mind with all my willpower, waiting for him to let something slip. To let something useful out, a hope that I wouldn't use a certain spell, I could feel that he was trying, trying so hard to not let any pieces of information loose, but he didn't succeed, he wasn't strong enough.

_Iuguolo immortalis funditus. _

He thought it subconsciously. I knew immediately what it would do. It would kill him forever, despite his immortality, but it came at a great price. I would be poisoned by the venom most associated with my victim, and I would die, slowly and painfully.

I couldn't have cared less about my own life; I was celebrating the fact that Voldemort could no longer reap destruction on the wizarding world. Despite this, I could feel the guilt setting in, could I really take another life, no matter how much he had fallen from human rationalization, he was still a person. A life for a life was the only justification for my actions. The death of my parents, of Cedric, Sirius, the Dursley's, all of those people that had died at his hand and I was waiting to avenge them, whilst my own life dwindled between my fingers.

I didn't think about those I had lost, I could not afford to lose my nerve in the face of death. I trained my wand to his eyes, the supposed windows to the soul. I thought about all the people I hadn't lost, all of the people I loved, all of those who could live a long and fulfilled life if I gave the one necessary sacrifice to procure them that.

There was no other option, my life was nothing when compared with my friends, my family.

I looked into the spicy red orbs one more time, hoping against everything I knew that this would be the last time I looked, the last time I saw them, the last time anyone saw them. I incanted the spell within my mind, in the secret part that no one could see, the part that was protected by an unbreakable seal, the part _nothing_ could get through.

Then within that small part of my mind, something jumped into place, the spell was Latin, but Latin wasn't the language of its incantation. Parseltongue. Suited only to Voldemort and I, the only two wizards alive that had use of language that could cause so much despair. It was annoyingly ironic and inconvenient. To incant the spell I needed a snake. The flaw in my ability was that I couldn't say anything in the language of serpents without looking into the eyes of one.

I swallowed compulsively, yet nervously, and looked around the small clearing, never letting my eyes stray far from Voldemort, ensuring that he was still hooked under my control. I was looking for Nagini. She wasn't there. My heart was beating faster and sweat was dripping from my forehead onto the stone of the floor, mixing with the crimson blood roses that blossomed over the ground.

I couldn't think of anything else to do. There was nothing else that would kill him, not even wound him to give me more time to consider my options and develop another method for his removal. All was lost, there was nothing left. I had failed in my task to rid the world of the monster that had caused so much pain and death. I was weak; I would forever be remembered as the Boy Who Had Lived to Die.

I couldn't do it, no one could, he was truly immortal and I was the only one with the necessary tools to end his reign, to cast the spell to end his half life, his continued immortality. I remembered the way I felt, so helpless and disappointed in myself and I wanted him to kill me, I had failed the wizarding world.

I was contemplating how to give myself over, resigned to my fate, until I heard something behind me. My thoughts halted, and the pattern of my breathing stalled. Snape was muttering something under his breath, his voice so distinct that it could be no one else. I yearned to turn and see for myself what he was doing, but I knew better than to break eye contact with the monster that longed to break me. I looked into Severus' mind desperately, using the only tool I knew. I felt the spell swimming around his mind, issuing readily from his lips and I breathed a short sigh of relief.

That was the day I discovered that Snape was loyal, if nothing else. He understood what I needed better than anyone else could, and he handed it to me, with no thoughts of his own life, no thoughts of the consequences of his actions.

My breath rushed back to me and I took the opportunity to cast the spell that would end more than one life. I hissed suddenly, Voldemort, the only person who understood what I was saying, froze, his red eyes stunned, the thoughts in his mind were clear, and the emotions rolling off of him were clearer.

He was shocked, shocked so badly that he couldn't move, couldn't force his lips to form words to stop me, and couldn't even wave his wand in a poor attempt at his own defense. He knew he was going to die, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He was entirely helpless, like a child without its mother, and for a single second I felt a stab of satisfaction. He knew what it was like to be me, and it was clear that he hated it.

No one was breathing around us; they were all listening to the whisper of sound that was coming from my lips, chilling everyone's spines, causing their hair to stand on end. Then my incantation stopped, suddenly as it had started and for a second, I was afraid the spell hadn't worked.

That Voldemort was alive.

But then I saw his body fall to the ground, lifeless, and I found myself wishing, in a greatly sadistic way, that he had felt the pain of every person he had ever tortured, every person he had ever killed, and every person he had left behind to feel the grief of losing a family member. I didn't know if it was true, for at that moment, I lost all sense of myself.

All I could feel was pain, the excruciating pain, it begun at my heart, spreading outwards at more than a million miles per hour. I couldn't hold back the screams that promised to overtake me, so I let them come willingly. I didn't want to suffer in silence any more.

Then I felt something beyond the pain, something more frightening than pain. Pain was familiar, somewhat comforting, but this new feeling provoked my sense of fear, and my screams grew louder. Numbness, it was the feeling of nothing, I couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't even smell the putrid scent of blood that hung over the scene of the battle.

It started at the bottom of my body. I could remember it exactly as if it was happening right there, I shuddered, but then I remembered the next unfamiliar touch.

It was that of strong arms around me, pulling me towards the warmth of a body, an unfamiliar body, and unfamiliar warmth, I couldn't feel the heat, I was too hot already, and cold would have helped more, but I welcomed it all the same, I didn't want to die alone.

Then there was another unfamiliar something, a strong press of something at my lips, then I realised someone was kissing me. The lips were urgent and forceful, pushing my lips open. I remembered that kiss, the way they kissed me, the way they sucked the venom out through my mouth.

Even though I was so largely unaware of who it was, or even what was really going on. When I woke up three days later, I had expected anything but the sudden appearance of Snape by my bedside. He was barely alive, and scars covered his whole body, his tattered robes not hiding the worst of them, or the best part of his lean yet muscular form.

He didn't say anything to me; he just walked swiftly away, brushing a kiss across my forehead as he went and leaving me in apleasantly surprised stupor. I blushed again at the thought that Snape had induced anything even remotely related to pleasantry, and pulled myself back to the present time.

It was only then I realised I was being spoken to by a velvety voice. The voice was very deep, cloaked in that same irresistible substance as always, and seemed to be coming from somewhere next to me. I looked at the person who spoke. It was Snape. Of course it was Snape; it couldn't have been anyone else but him.

If there was one thing that I found absolutely attractive about him, it was his voice and the power it held; the power and influence to make any man do unthinkable things.

"Sorry, what?" I asked him, I hadn't heard a word of what he had said.

He smirked at me, clearly amused, which was another surprise. Generally he was annoyed by his lack of attention to anything he had to say, which suited me just fine.

"Good flashback?" he asked in a low voice.

It just figured that he would realize what I had been thinking about, but then, when I put my mind to it, it made sense that I was thinking about the past; the past that had quite a lot to do with my future. I wasn't angry with him, although it would have been nice if he had asked before invading my mind with his subtle incursions. "How much did you see?" I asked, wondering what reaction he would have to feeling things the way I had felt them. The look on his face was answer enough to my question but he answered anyway, through his thoughts that he knew I was reading.

_Enough._ He thought simply and that was enough for me to look at the ground, somewhat afraid of what he might think of me, knowing that I had welcomed his touch, his comfort. I didn't want to know his reaction to that, despite my curiosity. I knew enough that I wasn't supposed to know, I wasn't going to add to it things that I didn't want to know.

He leaned in and brushed a kiss against my cheek, causing my insides to squirm. His lips were a few degrees cooler than my own and they seemed to cool the fire within my body. I looked away when he pulled away; I was embarrassed, had everyone just seen that?

Apparently not.

The room was empty, deserted, besides Snape and I, Snape and I who were soon to be married. As that thought overtook my mind, a door opened, I could sense who it was, and what news they brought. _It's time. _I said, inside my own head.

It sounded more like I was going to my own funeral, rather than my wedding. Although I never would have said it, I thought I would have been less nervous had it been my funeral that was approaching.

"Dumbledore's coming to tell us that it's time" I told Snape, rather dully. I didn't know what was wrong, but I suddenly didn't feel so great. Snape just nodded briskly and stood up, brushing his robes down with his long pale hands.

I'd never really paid attention to Snape's hands before; he had long fingers, long supple fingers, supple and precise, like they could get nothing wrong. The fingernails which grew from his icicle like fingers were perfectly manicured; they shone in the light from the candles that hovered above our heads.

I imagined those fingers caressing my skin, pulling me closer and… I stopped all thought running from my brain. I had expressly forbidden myself from even entertaining those kinds of thoughts, even though the thought of it going much further than a simple touch made me feel sick.

Eurgh.

Snape was amused again as was someone else, Dumbledore, I recognized his mind, the somewhat musical tone his voice took within my head. I rose from my chair, butterflies flying around my stomach, although I didn't think it was butterflies; it felt more like elephants.

I was really going to marry Snape. Oh. My. God. Kill me now.

**So that's it for chapter one, or at least the new and improved chapter one. I look forward to hearing your responses to it, although this isn't so different than the last one. The real differences will start to show when we get to chapter 2 onwards. I hope you won't hate me too much.**

**Yours,**

**Lucy**


	3. Chapter 2

**Convenient Arrangements**

**Ceremonial Nerves**

**Chapter Two**

Dumbledore came through the door, the door I couldn't even see it was so well disguised. Or maybe it was because I was almost hyperventilating. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice me as he glided through the door, humming to himself, it was a jolly tune, something I didn't recognize, but something happy, celebratory.

I snorted internally, happy? Today? Snape and I, getting married, and Dumbledore thinks of it as one of the many joyous days in history. Great. Dumbledore's talking to Snape, seems Snape wants to back out, hah, imagine that, Snape with cold feet and having second thoughts.

I looked into his eyes; they had darkened once again and were now dark brown, almost black. I recoiled slightly, they were so warm, so inviting just half an hour ago, what had happened? I kept watching his eyes; they seemed to continually shift between contrasting shades of brown and black.

Eventually, his eyes met mine and he nodded, the inclination of his head was so slight I almost missed it, but it was there, barely visible, but there. I took the hand he offered me to help me to my feet, and I was surprised by the coolness of his skin.

My own palm was hot and sweaty, but it was somewhat neutralized by the hard coldness of his fingers. His long, delicate fingers. The digits that were so precise, so perfect, that would feel so amazing as they brushed across my skin.

Again, I scolded myself, knowing that there was at least something in the fact that I couldn't feel him prodding through my thoughts.

Just walk, mind blank, I scoffed internally, a blank mind? I would be so lucky.

We passed through the door, and into another chamber, it was built of sand coloured stone, like the antechamber we had been waiting in previously. The room was rectangular, and rows of chairs begun at the back, it was set out like a proper wedding ceremony, which, I reminded myself, it was. Unfortunately.

The first three rows of folding chairs on each side were occupied by all those that had been in the waiting room. Hermione turned in her seat as she heard the door close and she looked at me, worry evident in her features. I looked at her and tried to smile reassuringly back, tried being the operative word.

My legs had turned to jelly, and I was sweating. Snape? SnapeSnapeSnape. I am marrying Snape, shit. ShitShitShit. Me and Snape, or Severus? Should I call him Severus now? Now we were to be married? Maybe I should, I doubt it would be very appropriate if I called him 'Professor'.

_Severus_ and I walked up the narrow walkway between the rows of chairs, I refused to think of it as an aisle and so I thought of it as a corridor, a short corridor.

I wanted it to be longer, to give me more time to think. Was I ready for this? Was I ready to be committed to someone for the rest of my life? 'No' was the answer, but I didn't have a choice, I had to do it, there was no other option. No other desirable option, anyway. I took a few deep breaths, after my fourth, after no time at all, I was at the… ahem… altar.

Dumbledore stood waiting for us, a look of excitement on his ancient face. He looked around at the crowd, smiling so widely I thought his cheeks might crack. I scowled at him when he smiled his bright smile in my direction, and it faltered for just a second before he hitched it back into place.

I was glaring at any piece of wall I could find, any piece of wall that wasn't obscured by people or paintings. I felt the hand drop from my own when Dumbledore cleared his throat, and ordered us to turn to face each other.

I span ninety degrees to my right, and faced Sn- Severus. He was looking at me already, watching me with a blank smoothness upon his face, yet the bemused expression I could sense behind the façade was fighting to break through his invisible mask.

I stared into his eyes, his warm chestnut coloured orbs that seemed to question me wordlessly. I was lost in their muddy depths, listening to Dumbledore as he spoke, above the quiet sobs that seemed to source from somewhere behind me.

Dumbledore went on, the happiness evident in his voice.

"We are gathered here today, in witness of family and friends to join Severus Snape and Harry Potter in lifelong bonding. If anyone can show with just cause why they may not be bonded, let them speak now, or stay forever silent."

I was groaning internally, what crap was Dumbledore spouting now? But I was also silently begging someone to speak, to stop this from going ahead. No one did and Dumbledore began talking again, with a fresh spring in his voice.

I fell silent, waiting for the words to come. Snape seemed to be just as annoyed with the way Dumbledore spoke, but his face was clear, the only indication I had was the darkening of his eyes. Dumbledore asked us a question then, and I ripped my eyes away from Severus' shiny spheres to listen.

"I require and charge you both."

This did not sound good.

"That if either of you know of any impediment why you may not be bonded, you confess it now."

"YES", I felt like screaming, "I can't marry him, he's my teacher! He's twenty years older than me! I can't do this! I'm not ready!"

But I stayed silent; I just copied Severus' movement and turned my head from side to side slowly, an innocent expression on my face. When Dumbledore noticed this his eyes seemed to sparkle even more, if that was possible, and he continued speaking slower than he had before, as if he wanted to drag it out.

"This is the day that has been chosen for you to be bonded. We are here, not only to witness your lifelong commitment to one another, but also to wish you every happiness in your future life together. With it's framework of loyalty and commitment, bonding enables the establishment of a home, where, through trust, patience and respect, the love and affection which you will one day feel for each other will develop into a deep and sensual relationship."

He paused there, and I felt like snorting, firstly because; me loving Snape? Impossible. And, secondly; deep and sensual? Was Dumbledore making innuendos? It wouldn't go that far, would it?

Severus and I wouldn't have to… I shivered, my palms went completely dry in Snape's hands, and it was only then I realized he was holding them. I stopped sweating, and started having difficulty breathing.

Dumbledore was oblivious to my discomfort, but Snape wasn't. He watched me with curious eyes which had an edge to them, worry was creeping in and clouding his mind. I shook my head nonchalantly and listened once again to Dumbledore's bouncing speech.

"We, who are witnessing your bonding, hope that despite the stresses inevitable in any life, your respect for each other, and your trust and understanding of each other wil-"

I really did snort at this point; it was quiet, but quite noticeable under the blanket of silence. Understanding of each other? Since when did Snape and I understand each other? Snape looked amused, as if he could read my mind the way I could read theirs; I made sure to check his reaction first and breathed a barely audible sigh of relief when I noticed the expression upon his face and the silent laughter rolling off of him in strong waves.

I next checked Dumbledore's visage, he was concealing amusement, badly, I might add. I opened my mouth and muttered "sorry" to Dumbledore, he merely nodded and coughed, I was almost certain that it was covering up a laugh.

He finished clearing his throat and stated to speak again, this time turned away from me slightly, I think he was under the impression that Severus wouldn't laugh during his own wedding ceremony, sorry, _bonding_ ceremony.

He began where he left off, continuing into another of his many ramblings, the only difference was, this one was necessary.

"Will increase your contentment, and heighten your joy in living."

His eyebrows seemed to rise and fall somewhat suggestively; I could feel the traitorous blush rising up my cheeks again. He then turned completely towards Severus, and inclined his head briefly. Severus returned the gesture and fell silent and unmoving.

Dumbledore started again "Severus Snape, do you take Harry Potter to be your lawfully bonded husband, to live together in harmony. Will you love, honor, comfort and defend him. From this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him, for as long as you both shall live?"

He paused again, glancing questioningly at Severus; this was the moment for him. I couldn't help but will him to say no, in that secret part of my mind that no one could see, legilimency or not.

But I was disappointed; he looked at Dumbledore and nodded once. This, however, didn't satisfy Dumbledore and he continued to stare at Severus until a low "yes" emerged from his throat. Dumbledore still wasn't satisfied and he sighed.

He peered at Severus sternly, not giving him the option to disobey. Snape glared in response, but a strangled "I do" escaped his lips, like he was in pain. My body tried to wince, but I wouldn't let it, I just watched Dumbledore nod and smile at Severus before he turned to me.

I froze in horror, was it my turn? Did I have to say something? I cleared my throat and looked to Dumbledore, ready to speak if I needed to. But that didn't seem to be the case. Dumbledore began to speak again, and I listened with rapt attention, afraid to miss something.

"Harry Potter, do you take Severus Snape to be your lawfully bonded husband, to live together in harmony. Will you love, honor, comfort and defend him. From this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him, for as long as you both shall live?"

I was then aware of every single eye in the room on me, and I felt uncomfortably warm. I stood there silently sweating for a long moment. Could I really do this? Could I make myself say I do? I then stopped my train of thought, and wiped my mind clean. I threw caution to the winds and took a deep breath.

If this went wrong, what did it matter? It was just one lifetime, there would be others. There was always the afterlife. Hell, any life would be better than my life had been up to now, who was I to refuse the chance?

So I shifted my weight to my left foot and looked straight into Severus' eyes. He was openly curious, hell, he probably thought I was about to say no and run off screaming. But I didn't, I looked away, towards Dumbledore and I signed my own death warrant.

"I do."

As soon as the words were out, I heard everyone breathe a sigh of relief behind me. I heard a shaky laugh, which I was sure had come from Hermione, and I felt like laughing myself, the worst part was over, no matter was happened now we were joined for life.

I carried on breathing very slowly and carefully, listening as Dumbledore turned once again to Severus and gave him a clear order.

"Repeat after me."

Severus answered with a stiff nod and Dumbledore started again.

"I, Severus Snape."

"I, Severus Snape."

"Take thee, Harry Potter."

"Take thee… Harry Potter."

"To be my bonded mate."

"To be my… bonded… mate." He glared at Dumbledore at these words, and Dumbledore simply looked at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth. I was sure Dumbledore was doing this deliberately.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward."

"To… have… and to… hold, from this day… forward." He was struggling with the words now, and I was trying not to take offense at his obviously strained words.

"For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer."

"For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer." Evidently, these words weren't as hard for him to say.

"In sickness and in health, to love, honor, and protect."

"In sickness and in health, to… love, honor, and protect." I saw the way he hesitated at love, not wanting to admit his feelings. The way he almost sneered honor, as if I had none. And the way his lips curled in cool disdain at protect, as if he had no wish to protect me.

I felt almost hurt, but no one paused to consider my feelings, and the ceremony went ahead.

"'Till death do us part" Dumbledore finished, almost gravely, yet he seemed to be glowing, as only he could.

"'Till death do us part." Snape looked as if he wished for death to come early, I gave him my best death glare, hoping that he would perish under my eye, but he simply smirked at me completely unfazed.

I frowned. Everyone noticed this frown and started whispering excitedly amongst themselves. The whispering itself was unintelligible, but the words that floated through my subconscious from other peoples thoughts gave me the gist of their gossip.

_First lovers tiff!… Oh, poor Harry.… I bet this is all a show.… Harry's probably listening to his thoughts.…_

And that's when I regretted not using my ability.

It must have shown on my face because Snape was staring at me with something akin to concern in his eyes.

That was when I invaded his mind, with force, and lots of it.

His now obsidian orbs glazed over for a moment, before he came to himself and glared at me.

But I heard the rush of thoughts within his mind, and I hurried to make sense of them.

_Why am I lying to myself, and him, he knows I don't hate him… You bastard, Albus; stop making innuendos… Act convincing, act convincing… He has to think I hate him… He's probably reading my thoughts right now .Then again, maybe not, I'd be able to feel him… What if he still hates me?... It was probably so hard for him to do this… the way he hesitated… he doesn't want to be here… maybe…_

I pulled out of his mind so quickly that it winded me. I caught a glimpse of a picture I did not want to think about. It looked like my own memory; he was standing, walking away from me in the hospital wing. Many scraps of fabric falling from his body, long rips in the most convenient of places…

I blushed so furiously, I was sure it would have been hard to distinguish the difference in colour between my face and the Weasley's red hair. I didn't look at Snape, though I knew how he was feeling, I couldn't block that part of my ability.

He was amused, and vengeful. I would pay for this later.

That was when I shivered, _later _was something I didn't want to happen, and not just to avoid the promise of revenge.

Dumbledore giggled quietly, and Severus and I gave him identical glares. Oh god, I really was spending too much time with Snape.

His face sobered right away and the light in his eyes seemed to disappear, he hastened to continue the ceremony.

"Repeat after me."

I nodded once to show I understood, I had to do what Snape just did, that wasn't so bad.

"I, Harry Potter." Dumbledore said, gesturing with his head for me to repeat his words, the glimmer returning to his eyes in full force. I took a deep breath and…

"I, Harry Potter." I repeated

Dumbledore smiled in encouragement, puh-lease. Asshole.

"Take thee, Severus Snape."

"Take thee, Severus Snape." I said, uh, this was getting old really quickly. My feet hurt too; do we have to stand for much longer?

"To be my bonded mate."

"To be my bonded mate." Wait; mate? Who said anything about mating?

"To have and to hold, from this day forward."

"To have and to hold, from this day forward." _Hm. Can't I break up with him? Ever? No? Oh, fine, whatever, I don't care, it's just one lifetime right? Just one lifetime. Snape thinks I'm having a heart attack, hah, and he seems a little confused… maybe it's because I'm not fighting, that would probably confuse him. Everyone's waiting for me… oh… right, I'm meant to be speaking._

"To have and to hold, from this day forward." Hmmm.

"For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer."

"For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer." _That was easy enough. I think I'm the richer one, that'll be hard for him to deal with. Mind you, there is all that what's mine is yours crap, so he has my money and I have his. Fun. _

"In sickness and in health, to love, honor, and protect."

"In sickness and in health, to love, honor, and protect." I didn't hesitate at all on this part, like he did, and I didn't even love him. I watched his face, the way it blatantly changed emotion. This puzzled me a little, Snape never showed his feelings, at least not when they somewhat diminished his reputation as evil potions master, and resident dungeon bat.

"'Till death do us part" Dumbledore was jolly again, jolly, of all emotions, he had to pick jolly.

"'Till death do us part." I repeated solemnly, maybe I would be lucky, and death would come sooner than later. _Shame Voldy isn't still around. Pity, he would have killed me at a moments notice…_

Dumbledore sank into silence for a few seconds, only nodding at Professor McGonagall, who inclined her head in response and stood up gracefully. I was slightly bewildered, what was going on now?

She came to stand opposite Dumbledore; she glanced somewhat wearily at Severus and smiled warmly at me. I tried to smile back, but I couldn't quite manage it, my lips had gone numb. I watched her with avid curiosity as she took her wand out and began to wave it in complicated patterns between me and Snape.

I chanced a glance at Severus, he was looking carefully bored, yet I got the feeling he was hiding something. I could feel nervousness coming from my right, so I automatically sent out waves of comfort in that direction, filling the room with calm.

I could feel their anxiety leaking away, and my own seemed to walk away with theirs so I took the chance to look back at McGonagall, who was writing our names in mid-air with her wand, they hung there, in an elegant script I hadn't seen McGonagall use before, they were bright silver and were radiating light.

The names wove around one another, darting into small holes in their own text. I watched in fascination as they twined together, too tightly to ever be separated. I looking at both the writing and the pretty patterns it was making on the ceiling. I had never seen anything like it, and it was over far too quickly.

I felt something heavy drop into my hand, so I lifted it from my side as McGonagall sat down in her unoccupied chair. I looked at the object in my palm; I could see in my head that Snape was doing exactly the same as I.

The ring was platinum, I was sure of it. It was a snake, and it wrapped around itself, its head ending where it met its tail. I examined it closer. Its eyes were tiny black stones, cut so brilliantly I could see every facet of the gem where the light hit it. The rest of the snake was so clearly defined, the lines between each scale glittered so strongly, I would swear they were tiny diamonds shining up at me. Every now and then I would see a tiny glimmer of green, and I would see the tiny emeralds between the diamonds. The ring was beautiful, It was so… Severus.

Its eyes were exactly the colour of Severus' onyx orbs, the green and silver clearly a reference to Slytherin, Snape's house, as was the snake. The beautiful serpent was the same species as the one that guarded his quarters in the dungeons. I looked into Snape's palm, and saw a ring very alike the one I was holding, but also so very different.

It was gold, pure gold, rather than platinum, and it was a serpent too. Exactly the same species as the one in my hand. Yet there were subtle differences. The snake's eyes were emeralds, exactly the shade of my own eyes; they was more vibrant, more colourful, than the colours of Slytherin house. A million Topaz's glittered in the same way as diamonds did on mine, lining every detail. They were intercepted every now and then with a hint of red. Rubies. But I could see green too. Emeralds. Slytherin emeralds in a Gryffindor ring. I had the sudden insane urge to laugh. This ring was _mine._ It said _me_, just as Snape's had said _Snape_.

**That's the end of Chapter Two then, and okay, I lied at the end of chapter one, I said that it all changed in chapter two, and it turns out that I have forgotten my own fanfic. This just goes to show how long it's been since I wrote it. It will all change in the next chapter, which means a little more writing for me, as opposed to small portions of editing. Bear with me guys, I'm in it for the long haul.**

**Yours,**

**Lucy**


	4. Chapter 3

**Convenient Arrangements**

**Fast, Hard and Meaningful**

**Chapter 3**

I was so lost in the beautiful rings; I almost missed it when Snape muttered something from in front of me. His voice was so deep and low, it sounded like liquid velvet, mysterious and dark, yet it was light and hopeful at the same time.

This confused me, light? Hopeful? Snape? The last time I checked Snape was a Slytherin, and Slytherin's didn't do hope, or anything light, for that closest they ever got to light was dry wit and sarcasm, but even that was dripping with diluted darkness.

Despite my confusion I listened to his words, willing them to give some indication as to how he was feeling. I couldn't see his face, hidden, as always, by his curtain of black hair, and I wasn't about to risk another flood of thoughts from his mind.

"Diligo veneratio fidelitas," he said, so quietly I could barely hear it. I kept watching him, my mind wandering in circles, I knew this had to mean something, unfortunately I didn't know what. I followed his line of sight, maybe it would help to know what he was looking at. My eyes were drawn to the inside of the wedding band in his palm, I couldn't see what it said, but it was clear that there was something engraved on the gold.

The words he had spoken must be what was written on the metal, but what did they mean? It wasn't a phrase I had ever heard before. I had a feeling that the words were Latin, but without a translating spell I couldn't be sure. Of course, to use a translating spell, I first had to know which language I was translating into, so it was useless.

I looked inside the ring in my own palm, trying to make some sense of my thoughts, and I read the same three foreign words inscribed on the platinum, and I asked myself again, my brain going into overdrive, what did it mean?

My question was answered immediately, not by a person, but by my own mind.

_Love. Respect. Fidelity. _

How didn't I see it before? It was Latin, modern Latin, and the three words were obviously what was meant to come from this marriage. I felt like snorting. _Love? _Okay, so Snape supposedly loved me, but I could never love him, could I? Respect? Of course, this was one thing he deserved from me, for all his achievements and for saving my life, _more than once._

Fidelity, I could be faithful to him, I would be faithful to him, I couldn't exactly expect the same in return, he could easilyhave several lovers on the go at once, and I wouldn't notice. I don't think it's right to cheat, and besides, cheating is for Slytherin's, and I'm no Slytherin.

I looked up quickly, towards Dumbledore; his eyes glittered, like he had just been given an extraordinary treat. My brow wrinkled in confusion, what was everyone so excited about? It was just a couple of rings, sure they were pretty, but still just two circular pieces of metal, they weren't really all that special.

My mind stopped whirling when Dumbledore cleared his throat quietly.

"Thank you Minerva." He muttered, almost silently, although I couldn't tell if McGonagall had heard him or not, she was staring at her wand in amazement, her mouth hanging open, hair from her usually perfect bun falling into her face.

His gaze lingered on McGonagall for a moment, contemplating her somewhat unusual behavior, he then turned to Snape, who was still watching the ring in his hand, as if he expected it to jump up and start doing cartwheels.

Dumbledore coughed again, and Snape jumped in a very un-Snape-like manor. His hand closed around the ring and he looked at Dumbledore, his customary scowl beginning to form on his face.

Dumbledore ignored Snape's obvious disdain and began to speak again.

"Now, Severus, repeat after me." He said, sounding like he was trying to tame a wild dog, which, I reminded myself, he almost was**;** if Snape's low growl was anything to go by.

I resisted the urge to sigh; we were back to the repeating crap again, not only that but growling? Oh well, it would be amusing I supposed.

I started to prepare myself for the many ramblings of the great Albus Dumbledore, as well as the short, one worded answers of Severus Snape.

"Oh,pardon me," Dumbledore started, "You will need to swap rings." He finished, in a most abrupt fashion, which didn't suit Dumbledore in the least. He looked straight at Snape, in full authority mode; the look on his face ordering Snape to do exactly as he said.

Snape looked down, opening his palm again; he stared somewhat wistfully at the ring, before turning to me. He reached out and took my closed fist in his hands. He turned my hand over and tried to break my grip. I held on, pushing my fingertips into my palm as hard as I could, so hard it would leave fingernail marks in my flesh.

It didn't make any difference, Snape pulled just a tiny bit harder and my fingertips broke away, I watched as my hand curled open, revealing the platinum within.

He brushed my palm with his own, and then he turned away, towards Dumbledore, resuming his previous position. The scowl returned to his face in full force, along with an air of heightened superiority, the expression reminded me of Malfoy. I looked into my hand, trying to stop Malfoy's image from seeping into my well shielded mind. When I had my thoughts under control I returned my attention to the ring Snape had held**,** prior to the minor touch he had bestowed upon my palm.

I closed my fist upon the ring, letting my hand drop to my side. My mind was utterly blank; I couldn't seem to think of anything important enough to let my mind linger on it. So, instead,I watched the two people closest to me.

Dumbledore and Snape shared a nod, and then Dumbledore started the repeating stuff, he was speaking at normal speed again, but I wished he would slow down. Surely after this we would have to kiss? I pushed the thought away from me, feeling theheat burning in my cheeks; I listened closely, hoping for some sign of a way out, orat least some sign of the normal Snape.

"With this ring, I thee bond, and with it, I bestow upon thee, all the treasures of my mind, heart and hands."

"With this ring, I thee bond, and with it, I bestow upon thee, all the treasures of my mind, heart and hands."

Snape grabbed my right hand, which confused me beyond my minds limits, weren't wedding rings generally placed on the left hand? Oh, but this is a _bonding_, so I guess it's different. I watched, unseeing as he pulled my fingers straight; he then took the ring from his palm and pushed it onto my ring finger.

It was a little big, but as soon as the thought entered my mind, the ring shrank to fit me perfectly, it wasn't too tight, but not too loose either. I could see the light bouncing off of the surface, see patterns dancing on the metal, and see the pure beauty of the ring.

I kept looking down, not seeing, but hoping. Hoping that I wouldn't cry, I hardly ever cry, more to the point; I had never cried in front of Snape, and I wasn't going to start now.

A small cough caught my attention and I looked up, into Snape's eyes, they were a deep brown, darker than earlier, but not quite the deep obsidian colour I was used to.

I couldn't help but think that I was reading too much into his eye colour, but part of my mind was telling me to keep doing it, to find out what I could, because I wouldn't be able to for much longer.

I almost missed it when Dumbledore spoke, I was so lost in my thoughts. His voice, however, rang clear through the room, cutting off every process occurring in my body, did I have to speak?

"Repeat after me,"

Obviously. This was getting boring.

I nodded once to show I understood. I felt a fool standing here clutching a ring inside my sweaty palm, and waiting to repeat the magic words. I almost laughed then, magic words… what the Dursley's would have said if I'd told them I'd be married to one of my professors… I hated to even let it pass through my mind, let alone linger on it.

"With this ring, I thee bond, and with it, I bestow upon thee, all the treasures of my mind, heart and hands."

I couldn't think for myself anymore, so I did what I was told, somewhat afraid of what might happen if I didn't.

"With this ring, I thee bond, and with it, I bestow upon thee, all the treasures of my mind, heart and hands."

When I'd finished my sentence I found that I could breathe again, that air was flowing into my lungs. How people took this for granted I didn't know. The oxygen felt like a drug to me, I could feel my brain kicking into action as it took effect.

I looked at Snape, taking note of his features, his brow was furrowed, and his eyes were alert. That was when I realised I hadn't given him the ring clutched tightly in my palm yet, and he was holding his hand out ready. I reached out somewhat tentatively and grasped his right hand, thankful that I only had to meet him halfway. It was ice cold, and it made me shiver.

I held his third finger and started to push the ring into place, my hands shaking almost violently. When it was where it was supposed to be, I released his hand and turned hastily away from him.

Dumbledore was beaming, as per bloody usual.

I ignored him, facing the wall to my left, feigning boredom,trying to show that I didn't care, that I was unaffected. Wasn't this thing over yet? Obviously not, Dumbledore started talking again.

"Having given and pledged their lives, each to the other, and having declared the same, by the giving and receiving of rings, I now pronounce that they are bonded in lifelong commitment. You may seal your promises with a kiss."

He looked positively thrilled; this was the part I had been… not dreading exactly, but anticipating… somewhat wearily.

Snape looked just as apprehensive as me, and his eyes darted around before he closed the distance between us in one quick stride.

Then his lips were on mine, it was quick and hard, and lasted only a second. He pulled away before I had a chance to respond, and to my surprise, I was disappointed.

Despite the lack of contact, my heart raced and my palms grew sweaty and I felt the telltale blush creeping into the apples of my cheeks once again. I couldn't denythat I wanted more. I looked away, embarrassed.

Then I heard the applause, quiet and polite, but still applause. Then I heard laughs and giggles, and then sobs, and then the range of sound stopped, but I wished it would carry on for the want of something else to occupy my mind.

I sighed, it was obvious that I would have no such luck, and that I was forced to face the moment, as much as I wanted to run and hide. I turned to our audience. As soon as I had, I found myself with an armful of Hermione, her bushy hair was in my mouth and my eyes, which made it impossible to see. Her arms were fastened around me so tightly, I could barely breathe. As awkward as it was, it was exactly what I needed at that moment.

Ron came over next, he gave me a manly hug, and it was short, and to the point, but full of some hidden comfort. I was passed around the remainder of the Weasley family, and then the various members of staff. I received hugs from everyone from tiny little professor Flitwick to Hagrid. Eventually I reached Dumbledore; he looked down at me sadly.

"Harry, my dear boy, how are you?" he asked me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into his bright blue eyes and I felt as if he was x-raying me, analyzing my every move. I found myself unable to speak, unable to say anything, whether it be the truth or a lie, so I merely nodded, but I was sure even that was a lie. Was I okay? Was I really okay?

I wanted to tell myself that I was absolutely fine, but the truth was that I couldn't, because I wasn't alone anymore. Not that I had been alone before, but now I was legally tied to someone else, someone who I had hated with everything I had. It was true that I didn't hate him anymore, but I couldn't say that he was one of my favourite people either.

I didn't want to watch him, but I saw him anyway, shaking hands with several members of staff in turn. The look on his face was one of pain, and I figured how he felt. All I wanted was to go somewhere alone and actually think about what I was doing, but I couldn't, that wasn't allowed.

I kept my face blank, sensing people watching me anxiously, wanting to know how I felt, but not going very far in establishing the issue. That was okay, I didn't want to be asked questions right now. I wanted to run away.

I didn't remember much of the next hour, I remember being passed around amongst the guests, having my hair ruffled affectionately by Mrs Weasley, being told that 'it'll all be alrigh'' by Hagrid, and wishing more than anything that Sirius was here. For one, he wouldn't ever have let this happen, and two, he wouldn't be the one giving him empty reassurances, he would be the one making sure that he never had to see the 'slimy git' ever again.

I remembered sighing a lot, and feeling like I wanted to cry, but laughing, because I wouldn't cry in front of these people. I wouldn't cry in front of any of them, because I was meant to be the strong one. I had destroyed Voldemort, the darkest wizard ever to have lived, with no thoughts to myself, and here I was, breaking down over something as trivial as marriage and happiness.

I needed to get out of there, and I needed to do it quickly, or else I figured that I'd end up breaking down right in front of everyone.

Shit for the fact that that opportunity wasn't going to come quickly enough. Well, it would if I had anything to say about it. I carefully skirted the edge of the room, watching people for anyone who happened to be watching me, but not meeting anyone's eyes.

It wasn't long before I had reached the door, and with something of a sigh of relief, I slipped out of the room, beginning the long, almost painful walk back to the dungeons. I could scarcely believe that this was real, this whole sham of a marriage that had seemed like it was simply a mean to an end was actually real, it had happened and there was nothing I could do about it.

I took a slow walk to Snape's quarters, although I guessed that they were officially mine now too. I wasn't sure that was where I wanted to go, but I didn't really have another option that wouldn't end in a search party.

Letting myself in wasn't a problem, and until I slumped in one of the armchairs before the hearth, I had had a valid plan of what I was doing, and then I lost it.

I let my head drop, my eyes lingering on the burnt out embers of last night's fire. To my dismay, I felt tears prick at my eyes, and as much as I didn't want them to fall, I couldn't stop them. I hadn't cried over this, I had been as strong as I always had to be, and now I wished I could take it all back. Everything, from this, to that first birthday, where I had almost been killed, and for a second, I wish that I had been. Being dead would be better than all this pain.

I shook my head and let my chin drop, not caring anymore that I was crying, not caring that the only thing I could feel was pain and guilt and nothing in between. I was feeling guilty that I wasn't feeling thankful for the fact that I had been saved from the torture of Lucius Malfoy.

Would that life have been better than this?

I shook my head and wiped my eyes, seemingly at the right time. The portrait covering the entrance to Snape's quarters swung inwards, revealing one of the very people I had been trying to avoid.

* * *

I could almost sense Harry skirting around the edge of the room, but I didn't look, the chances were that he didn't want to be watched, and I wasn't going to discomfort him. I did see his back disappear through the doorway, and I wanted to follow him. I didn't like that urge and so I dismissed it, instead turning back to Filius to continue our discussion on potions charms.

Several minutes later, I hadn't absorbed one piece of information I had been told, and that was when I realized that I was worrying about the boy. I was sure that my sneer must have shown on my face, I didn't want to care about the boy, but I could hardly help it.

I made my excuses, hiding my want to know where Potter was with a dark look, glaring at anybody who even looked like they might challenge me as I cut through the crowd.

It wasn't a long walk back to my quarters, but it was certainly long enough for my curiosity to peak concerning the whereabouts of Potter. I paused slightly outside the portrait, sensing his presence inside the room, although sensing it as something of a sad presence. I wasn't entirely sure if I should enter, but then, I had come this far.

I muttered the password to the portrait, entering my quarters as silently as I could, immediately seeing Harry sitting before the hearth, his chin resting on his chest, what seemed like silent tears to be falling from his eyes. He was crying? I wanted to leave, why did I have to be the one to deal with tearful sixteen year olds?

I walked slowly up behind him, noting how he seemed to have wiped his eyes, trying to hide the traces of his tears, although they were still there, the track marks on his cheeks. I took a seat next to him, not looking at him, nor saying anything, merely staring into the burnt out embers of the flames that the elves kept crackling merrily of an evening.

I didn't know exactly what to say to him, nor did I particularly want to say anything, but it seemed that if I didn't, we would sit there in silence until one of us was willing to back down from the lack of conversation.

"You left," I stated, hating but loving the way my voice came out so harshly.

I tried not to watch him, but it was difficult to keep my eyes away. He was so infuriating, the way he garnered my attention, without the slightest attempt. I watched him carefully, discreetly, not allowing him to see that I was studying his profile in the vain hope for a flicker of a response.

My eyes met his as he turned towards me and nodded once in concordance. I could tell that behind his eyes, every barrier he had was fully erect, there was no way I could break into his mind, eye contact or none.

"Might it trouble you to tell me why?" I asked, a sneer on my lips, trying my utmost to act the part of evil potions professor, the phrase I heard so often around the corridors. My reputation didn't have much of an effect on Potter any longer; this much was proved by the way he would stand up to me now, without a shadow of fear as to what the consequences would be.

* * *

Why I had left? Wasn't it obvious? I couldn't bear to stand there any longer, basking in the obviously forced happiness put on for me. I could not bear to hear the thoughts that broke through my barriers, the disconnected words and phrases, all about how stupid I was putting up with this, and how there were a million others that would have been entirely more appropriate.

I felt sick, I felt like I was falling through the air at an alarming speed and no one was going to catch me.

I took a breath and sat back in the chair, turning my head to look at Severus fully. I wasn't going to tell him that, wasn't going to tell him that the first thing on my mind was how I wished I could be anywhere but here with him, anyone but his 'husband'.

"I had a headache, couldn't keep my barriers up," I muttered, not caring if he knew it was a lie, not really caring about anything right then.

I turned my head away, frowning at the flames that personified everything I didn't feel. Happiness and light seemed to radiate from the flickering bundle, the two things I had always wanted to feel.

It was ironic really, how I represented the side of the light, and all I could feel was the ever present darkness, trying its utmost to consume me. At that moment, I wanted to let it.

I watched as he frowned, it was so painstakingly obvious that he could see through my shallow attempt at a lie that even I was ashamed at myself.

"Now tell me the real reason," he said, or ordered, was more like it.

I sighed, I had no desire in the least to let him know anything that was going on in my head, and no thought that he would understand. The chances were that he would sneer at me as usual, thinking my reasons childish.

"I didn't want to be there any longer," I said, it was true enough, but by the look I was given, it wasn't half enough to get me off the hook. "It was too much, everyone pretending that this sham of a marriage was perfectly acceptable, pretending to be happy," I said, my tone bored, but I was anything but.

I was angry, and sad and vengeful and filled with that strange darkness that threatened to eat me alive. I was brutally honest with him, and I saw how he almost flinched at my words. For all I cared, he could happily pretend that what we had was real, but it wasn't, and it never would be in my eyes.

Severus simply nodded and stood up, turning to walk away from me. It was better than I expected his reaction to be, but I wished that he would have reacted in the way I expected him too, at least something then would have been normal in this new world that was entirely different to how I remembered it.

I stood too, words issuing from my mouth that I didn't think I would ever want to say.

"Wait, Severus."

**So you'll notice the changes now, the absence of that girl you all either hated or loved. She might be back, as yet, I'm not sure, but I urge you to enjoy a story without disruptions. I hope you will like the changes I have made, and I hope I've kept in character. I'm in a writing mood, so I'm going to get started on the next chapter. Hopefully we should be back to where we were, roughly, within the next couple of months. **

**Yours,**

**Lucy**


	5. Chapter 4

**Convenient Arrangements**

**The Feeling is Mutual**

**Chapter Four**

I had no idea at all why I told him to wait. I felt guilty, of course I did. Guilty for being so harsh, for neglecting to think of his feelings, although up until a few months ago, I would never have believed he had any.

I watched as he turned back to me slowly, his face set and masked with no emotion shown, but I knew better. He often seemed to forget that I could sense his every thought and feeling. Hurt was one of the main vibes I was getting, followed closely by anger and pain. He was as unhappy about this as I was, except he had more sense than to show it.

That had been one of the non-negotiable points to the contract. I had to act like it was real, that I really loved him, because otherwise, the marriage could be annulled. This also meant we had to sleep together. This didn't make me that happy, even though it meant that I wouldn't be celibate for the rest of my life.

Now he was standing there, looking at me, and waiting for a response, and I had no idea what to say. I didn't know whether I should apologise or not, but it seemed like it was pretty much my only option.

We were here, in this room that I barely recognized, in this world that I didn't know how to navigate. I was standing opposite the man that had caused me hell in much of my adolescent life, expected to live my life alongside him without any argument. I didn't want it, I didn't want him.

"I'm sorry," I said, "That was uncalled for," the words I spoke were true, truer than I'd like, but I couldn't bring myself to mean them. I said it because that was what was right to say, not because I wanted to redeem myself against him, I was just tired. I was tired of wars, and fights, and arguments, and anything else that I had to put up with until then.

He still didn't speak, and I didn't blame him. He had been making an effort, I had seen that much, seen that in the way he looked at me, the way he didn't attempt to influence me on my decisions, the way he gave me the space I needed, all because this was the best thing for me, and because it was his duty to help.

I had thrown it back in his face, what else did I expect other than outright disdain at the thought of forgiveness, of happiness.

Still, he said nothing, and nothing was given away on his face. I sighed.

"Say something," I urged, my voice growing weaker, like it had when I was a child begging for food through the door of the cupboard under the stairs. My voice was weak, gone unheard in the middle of the night.

"What do you want me to say, Potter?" spat Snape, such vindictiveness trailing from his tongue. "Do you want me to tell you that it's perfectly acceptable that I've agreed to waste the rest of my life with you, when you obviously deem it worthless?"

I stepped back as he advanced forwards, his anger clear, cracking through the air like fresh lightning.

"I don't deem it worthless," I argued, "It's just, I didn't choose this, why should I have to pretend to be happy about it when I'm not?" I asked, it was a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway.

"Because, Potter, this has to be seen as legit, or else you'll be forced to greet the Malfoy's with a smile when they greet you with a cane," he growled, advancing further still.

I lost all sense of argument, of course that was what this was, a ruse for the ministry, a show put on to deter the requests of the minister and the Malfoy's alike.

I nodded, "I understand, I'm sorry," I said, my voice was hollow. I was wondering what time I would be allowed to sleep. I guessed it wouldn't be until later. Four o'clock was hardly the time to crawl into bed and attempt to shut out the world.

"I suppose this means that we must share a bedroom?" I asked, trying not to make my voice sound like I was dreading the thought. The truth was that I wasn't particularly dreading it; I just wasn't looking forward to it.

Snape nodded once, anger still burning in his eyes, "It would hardly be appropriate for the ministry to find us in separate beds, let alone separate rooms. Everyone believes me to be pure evil, and I will not have my reputation ruined by you not complying to what is expected of me, therefore, you will be sleeping with me."

This just proved to confuse me. Why would the Ministry be looking at us in the bedroom anyway, and since when did he have a desirable reputation?

I wouldn't generally have asked him anything, but as the case was, I didn't have much other option in who to ask, and so I let my questions spill out of my mouth. "Why would we be found? I can sense that your quarters are as thoroughly protected as Dumbledore's, if not more so, which would make it virtually impossible to invade whatever little home it is that we have here. Also, when you say sleeping, I'm assuming you actually mean sleeping?"

Severus merely shook his head, and headed for a cabinet on the opposite wall that I hadn't noticed, he pulled out a crystal tumbler, and filled it with a generous quantity of amber liquid.

He then sat in the armchair furthest away from me and took a sip of the drink before answering my questions. His tone was calm, but dark and cold. His anger hadn't completely faded, I could still feel it, although the waves had calmed somewhat, they danced in the background.

"Of course I mean sleeping, Potter, your virtue is more than safe. As for why we would be found, have some common sense Potter, the boy who lived and his most hated potions professor setting up home? I can guarantee you that we will be watched, there are external methods for observation. It is an unlikely situation that somehow managed to become reality, we have to treat it as what it is."

Well, that helped.

I nodded, what I had thought was a smart comment had been virtually ripped to pieces, but I wouldn't react, not anymore. "To keep up appearances," I stated softly. It was all a lie, one big fat huge lie, and I was right here in the middle of it. The war was over, and yet, it was still going on.

Severus nodded, looking relieved that I had finally understood. If relief was the intake of several large sips of whiskey, which in Severus' dictionary, I was quite sure it was. I didn't really notice that he had nodded to my last, murmured statement. My mind was preoccupied.

Severus assumed me a virgin, and I wasn't quite sure whether I wanted him to continue in his misinformed opinion, or whether I should tell him the truth of the matter.

However, it seemed again that my mind didn't have a say in what tumbled from my lips.

"My virtue is something you know nothing of," I stated simply, it sounded defensive to my own ears, and I had no doubt that it would most likely sound worse to his.

Severus just looked at me, "Potter, with the lack of interest on your part in any potential partner, male or female, why would anyone believe that sex was a priority for you, or that you would take any time from your busy schedule to pencil someone in for the privilege?" he asked, almost scathingly.

Hermione was the only person I had spoken to about such matters, and it was strange, how different I felt when discussing it with Snape.

"I was interested, more than once, but what more could I do? Was I supposed to date someone? Make them target number one for Voldemort?" I questioned, more than a little disbelieving that he thought it had been out of choice.

"Ah, I see, ever the hero," he sneered at me, taking a sip of his drink.

I rolled my eyes and took a seat on the couch again, not taking any care to do so gently. A wave of my hand had a tumbler in my hand, not dissimilar to the one Severus held.

"Do you mean to say that you're not a virgin?" he asked me, and I felt my cheeks colouring. Did it really matter if I was or I wasn't? After all, this wasn't about sex, which meant that it was probably a good thing I had experienced it before.

I made a non committal jerk of the head, "I'm not," I said, being careful with my words. I wasn't a virgin, hadn't been since I was fifteen years old, but there was no need for him to know that my sexual interests lay on both teams.

Severus made something of a gesture for me to continue, which I pretended not to see, taking a sip of my drink to cover up for my avoidance.

He was clearly expecting an answer, he was watching me, waiting.

"I'm not a virgin, but I'm not what you'd call experienced either," I said, expanding just slightly on my previous statement. My doubts from earlier were still present. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to know when, and who with. A part of me wanted to keep it all to myself, my dirty little secret.

He didn't say anything about it, which I was thankful for, although when I looked at him, I was surprised by the somewhat thoughtful look upon his face.

It was easy to guess the subject of his thoughts, although some extra light probing proved my theories correct. What I didn't want to tell him, was what was running through his mind. I saw faces, faces of people I never even would have considered sleeping with, and then the faces turned into heated scenarios, coupled with strong waves of jealousy. That was when I withdrew.

The ever present glare greeted me when Severus' face came into focus, but I didn't change the expression on my face. "If you didn't want me to see, why didn't you stop me?" I asked, it was true that I was happy he hadn't stopped me, but I didn't want to invade his privacy. I knew from experience that the outcome of that was never good.

"You make too many assumptions, Potter," he said, his tone cryptic. I wasn't quite sure what I was supposed to say to that, or even where to start when it came to deciphering the meaning of anything that came out of his mouth.

He didn't seem angry anymore, just more like he was trying to avoid the point. That wasn't like Severus. Did he mean that I assumed he didn't want me to see? If that was the case, then was it that he actually wanted me to see?

I felt like closing my eyes, but took another sip of my drink instead, albeit a rather large one. I could feel Severus's eyes on me, but I didn't meet his gaze.

"Do you want me, Severus?" I asked, it was a brave question, and took more courage than I would've liked, but what kind of Gryffindor would I be if I shied away from asking a simple question.

I didn't know what I would do if he said yes, but I knew that waiting for him to reply seemed to take an eternity. I stood impatiently, anxiously, one could say, and I walked to the sideboard. I decided my empty tumbler was enough of an excuse to keep my back to him.

I had just finished pouring another measure of whiskey when I heard him stand. I stayed as still as I could. I set the bottle down, reattaching the lid and waiting. I didn't know what he would do, and curiosity paired with paranoia made me turn.

I took a quick breath in as I turned, he was close, standing less than a foot away from me, his head tilted, his eyes dark. My eyes met his, I forgot about my drink, I forgot that we were supposed to be at the reception, I forgot that people were probably wondering where we were.

He took a step forward, and instinctively I leant back, bracing my hands against the cabinet, still not moving my eyes from his.

"I was forced to marry you, I should at least get some form of compensation," he said, his voice low and husky. Quiet. It made me nervous, I felt my heart beat in my throat, and then I felt his lips on mine.

It wasn't loving or romantic, it was driven from pure need, purely reciprocated need. I didn't object, or pull away.

The kiss was urgent and hungry, my hands didn't move from their spots, but I could feel Severus' arms either side of me, where he had leaned on the cabinet too, trapping me.

His lips were hard against mine, tongues battling for dominancy, and for a while the only sounds were that of heavy breathing and lips breaking apart for mere milliseconds.

I couldn't control my movements, my hand moved from leaning on the sideboard to woven in his hair, pulling him towards me. I wanted him, I wanted to deny it but I couldn't.

As soon as I started pulling, he pulled his lips from mine, breathing heavily, with desire in his eyes.

"Potter-"

"Harry," I corrected him.

"Harry," He looked away for a moment, seemingly trying to find a way to explain himself. "I-"

I cut him off, pulling him by the front of his shirt, reattaching my mouth to his, he didn't protest. His hands moved; I felt fingers in my hair, a hand on my chest. I ran my own over his chest, up to his shoulders, under the lapels of his robes.

I pushed it off of his shoulders and it fell to the floor in a heap, using his collar to pull him closer to me, I pushed my hips towards his, I wanted contact, I wanted him. Now.

His hands found my shirt buttons; he undid them quickly with skilled fingers and it followed his robes to the floor. I wasn't exactly shy about my body. I had enough scars to play dot to dot with, but I wasn't in bad shape.

He forced my mouth open more with his tongue, biting my bottom lip softly as he went. I stifled a moan as I felt his hand at the waistband of my pants, and suddenly they felt too small.

I unbuttoned his shirt, not bothering to push it off, just to run my hands all over his chest. He was well defined for a thirty-something year old. I felt my pants being undone and a hand slipping inside my boxers, and I couldn't help the low moan that slipped from my throat, my eyes closing of their own accord.

A loud, bell like sound reverberated throughout Severus' quarters and we sprang apart, seemingly embarrassed to be caught in this situation. Someone was outside and potentially awaiting permission to enter.

I turned away from the door, buttoning and zipping my trousers. I had objected strongly to this marriage, if someone was to see what had nearly happened, then I would never live it down.

Severus and I exchanged a hurried glance as he buttoned the last button on his shirt and I lunged for mine that was still on the floor, just as the portrait swung open.

I didn't catch a glimpse of whoever it was at the entrance, as I slipped into the nearest room, attempting to hide both my modesty, and the previous occurrence. I heard voices as I pulled my shirt on hurriedly, I could hear that deep velvet voice that belonged to Severus, and a higher pitched one, talking with a worried undertone.

The voice was easy enough to match with an identity. Just the tone would inform me that Hermione had come to find us, and that she was wondering what had happened between us. I fixed my shirt and ran a hand through my hair, despising the way it didn't go how I wanted it, in any shape or form. It was as defiant as I was when it came to being told what to do.

I opened the door and stepped into the room, careful to mask my face, she wasn't the smartest witch her age for no reason, after all.

I probed her thoughts from afar, ignoring anything that wasn't associated with the situation at hand. I could tell that she was confused. She asked herself questions; had they argued? Had a bonding moment?

I resisted the urge to laugh. A bonding moment would have been highly unlikely, considering our history.

But then, he didn't really know what else that had been, perhaps it was bonding; a certain form of bonding that didn't involve voices, just actions. Heated, pleasurable actions.

"Harry."

Her voice sounded accusing, like she knew exactly what had been going on, but Hermione often forgot that I could read her every thought, and it was obvious from the different solutions running through her mind that she didn't have the faintest idea.

"Hermione," I greeted her, careful to keep my voice normal, if a little cheerful. "What are you doing here?"

"I could very well ask you the same question," she replied, the accusing element still present in her voice. She couldn't tell what had happened, so she was going to try to intimidate a confession out of them.

I almost laughed. Hermione was a million different things, but intimidating was definitely not one of them, not anymore, anyway.

I hadn't answered her, and she was still staring at me, waiting for a response.

I said the first thing that popped into my brain, "I had a headache."

That sentence alone could twist anyone who knew my secret around my little finger. As Albus had often said to me, it was positively Slytherin of me to use my gift this way.

I saw a combination of pity and guilt wash across her face and for a moment I felt guilty too. I lied to them too much already, it was something I had promised I would stop after the war was finished, and I hadn't. If I wanted to reason with myself, then I would use the same excuse I had used thousands of times before, the war wasn't finished. It still mattered who was good and who was evil. It was still all about sides.

"Of course, I'm sorry, are you alright?" she said, immediately transcending into mother hen mode, fussing over me. She seemed to have moved five feet in the space of a second and was now measuring everything from my temperature to my magical ability.

"Hermione, I'm fine." I used the same lie I had been using ever since my first year, and here I was in my seventh. My circumstances were completely opposite to what I had thought they would be.

"If you are quite finished playing nurse, Miss Granger, might I suggest we rejoin the party?" Severus' voice was deep and harsh, and if I had been a first year again, I would have been quaking in my four-sizes-too-big boots.

* * *

Upstairs, the party was in full swing, motivation for celebration seemed to have been discovered in the addition of alcohol and the entire room seemed to be buzzing. Disjointed words and phrases entered my head, but I cast them aside.

I separated myself from Severus as soon as we entered the room, heading to get myself a drink. I was legally an adult; I may as well enjoy it. Ordering whiskey, a substance I seemed to have developed a taste for in the short time I had been in residence at Severus' quarters, I noticed a tall redhead at the opposite side of the chamber, looking right at me.

I almost missed the fact that a crystal tumbler was being pressed into my hand, I was so shocked. Charlie Weasley wasn't the kind of person to fly over from Romania in order to attend a wedding.

Unless, of course, it was my wedding.

I saw him walking towards me, but didn't really comprehend the action until he was standing before me, a lop-sided smile twisting his lips. I raised my eyebrows.

"Charlie."

My greeting was short, perhaps too sharp, but I found myself uncaring.

He didn't bother with a return greeting, but then, I knew he wouldn't.

"Long time no see," he said, reaching out to brush my fringe out of my eyes. I felt his fingers against my skin and immediately moved out of reach.

"I should think, having travelled so far to attend a wedding, you would know who it was getting married."

I sensed his presence before I heard him, but the sardonic quality to his voice was unmistakable, and enough to make me flush as I remembered the touch of his hands on my skin.

"Of course, Severus, I was just offering Harry my congratulations."

I didn't need to look at Severus to see his nod, or know what he was going to say next. The man spoke fluent sarcasm, it was clear that would outline the basis of his response.

"Physical contact is unnecessary when offering congratulations, Weasley."

I couldn't say I was disappointed.

Severus steered me away, stopping when we reached a spot which was less vastly populated than the bar area I had previously been occupying.

"Charlie Weasley?" he asked as soon as we were out of earshot, by his tone of voice, I couldn't mistake his meaning.

The first thing I felt was shame at being found out, followed by some emotion I couldn't identify, I wasn't relieved that he knew, I was dreading the conversation that would follow.

Apparently I didn't need to answer for him to receive a confirmation.

"I don't know whether I should scold you or congratulate you, Potter," he said, and his words confused me, firstly because he had admitted that there was something that he didn't know. Secondly, because I thought he would turn his nose up at the possibility of sharing a sexual partner with a Weasley.

I didn't reply, I figured that he would inform me of his reasoning without encouragement.

"Charlie Weasley is not only the most cultured of the Weasleys, but he is also tolerable and talented on the quidditch pitch," he paused, nodding his head to me, in clear reference to my own quidditch playing talents. "However, he is still a Weasley, and Ronald's brother, which makes me question whether or not he has knowledge of this."

He didn't phrase the sentence like a question, but it was clear that that was his connotation.

"No, he doesn't know, and I'd be grateful if you didn't inform him," I responded, finishing what was in my glass.

Severus nodded once, but I saw his eyes flicker over to where Ron was, and I doubted for a second whether I could trust him.

"Another drink?" he offered.

I nodded and handed my empty tumbler to him, watching as he walked away. I could feel Charlie's eyes on me from the opposite side of the room where he stood, speaking with his father, but I didn't let it bother me.

There were more important things to contend with, like the throbbing pain growing inside my skull, and the fragmented words and phrases slipping through my shields as I lacked the control to keep them as flawlessly maintained as I was used to.

* * *

It wasn't soon enough that I entered Severus' quarters after a long night of accepting what had started out as congratulations, and transformed into glances of concern and worried questions as the pain had grown increasingly worse.

I could hardly think through the haze of pain fogging my brain, and when a vial of some milky, semi-translucent liquid was pushed into my hand, I didn't think, I swallowed the entire contents, bowing my head and massaging my temples with my thumbs, waiting for the mist to clear.

I seemed to be doing this more and more lately, losing control of the shields that had remained fully maintained for well over a year before I had defeated Voldemort, never wavering. Now that there was no threat, only a preference for privacy, I couldn't do it anymore.

It was only when I looked up to see a concerned pair of black eyes staring back at me, that I realised I could think properly again. Severus was on his knees before me, watching me with a level of anxiousness that I couldn't understand. I cautiously extended my mind towards his, trying to pick up something, anything, that would give me the slightest clue as to the workings of his mind.

I got nothing.

I could feel my brow furrowing in concentration as I probed further, trying to get into the innermost part of his mind, the part I didn't dare try to infiltrate under normal circumstances, out of fear of being flayed alive.

Still nothing.

With everything I had, I tried one last attack, noting that Severus' face was growing more and more worried, although he was seemingly unaware of the attacks I was attempting to carry out on his mind.

I felt a single tear of sweat run over my temple.

Nothing.

I straightened my face out, but I was worried, worried for myself, for the first time in my entire life. I couldn't access my abilities as a legilimens, and I had a strange feeling that my mind was completely open to infiltration. I couldn't sense my shields as I usually could, there was no reassuring presence, and that only caused my worry to increase.

"Severus," I started, startled to hear my voice shaking just slightly, like I was nervous, or close to tears. "Try to read my mind."

It must have sounded strange coming from my lips. Never had I requested someone try to break my shields and see into my head, partially because of the desire for privacy, but mostly because I knew that with my shields fully in place, it wouldn't be possible. It shouldn't have been possible.

I didn't feel him inside my head as I should have, I couldn't feel anything, just emptiness.

"You're worried, why are you – wait, why aren't you maintaining your shields?"

His words were enough to bring on a dull ache in my head and my throat.

"I'm trying," I murmured.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds.

The silence was deafening.

"It's been a long day, you should sleep." His words weren't questioning, but they hid a dark undertone, something like concern, but different, more powerful. I couldn't identify the emotion, but I could identify the fact that the feeling was mutual.

**This chapter is when it all starts to change noticeably from what it was before, I know it's been a long wait, but at the moment, I'm just about to start my exams, and when I need a break I like to write, so you might be getting quicker updates. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I have an actual plotline now, so be prepared for a long ride, guys. **

**Yours,**

**Lucy **


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